Shall We Dance
by WadeH
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet decides on an entirely different approach to dancing at the Meryton Assembly. This is about novella length, complete in 7 chapters. (COMPLETE)
1. First Dance

_"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me." P &P Chapter 3_

* * *

"Mr. Darcy I am so sorry I was delayed. I am ready for our two sets now."

Fitzwilliam Darcy was startled from his present bout of brooding to stare at the young lady standing in front of him. He knew full well he had _not_ in fact asked her to dance even one set, let alone two. In fact he had not even been introduced to her. This was madness. This was extreme impertinence. This was well and truly unsupportable. This was… come to think of it, this was… _well played_. She had boxed him in most thoroughly.

Now that he looked more carefully, he recognized her. She was the sister of Bingley's latest angel that he had tried to convince him to dance with; although Darcy was completely unable to come up with her name. He had to own that she was in fact quite handsome when he finally took a good look at her; but her face… her face held a startling mixture of emotions. She made no attempt to hide them from him, but she had cleverly managed to place herself where _only_ he could get a really good look. For everyone else, she would look quite demure, standing there smiling politely, appearing to all the world to be performing the perfectly ordinary office of accepting a dance. Look closer though, and he could see both a well-hidden look of fury in her eyes, and a small smirk of triumph on her lips; although he could not imagine what triggered either emotion.

Yes, this country miss had boxed in the Master of Pemberley, veteran of ten years in the first circles, like a pack of his best hounds with a fox… or perhaps a fox and chicken would be a better analogy. She had chosen the moment, the location and the setting perfectly. Without raising her voice, she had made the faux reply where it could be heard by several matrons that did _not_ appear to be strangers to the gossip mill. He knew and she knew there had been no application; but she had left him the unpalatable choice of either dancing with her, or calling an apparently popular daughter of a prominent family a liar, publicly, on the first night of Bingley's residence in the neighborhood. Doing so would get him burned in effigy before the hour was up and Bingley along with him, so with such a simple little trick, she had forced his hand.

He gave her a look of his own fury, and replied coldly, "Of course, madam. Let us be off."

She gave a slight nod and the deed was done.

He extended his arm, as offering it to an old but thoroughly despised relative. She took it as if handling a snake, and they went off towards the forming set.

* * *

Once the dance started, all pretense of conversation ceased for a time, and she appeared to be satisfied to leave it at that. Her revenge was complete, and the next hour would be at her bidding. Darcy occasionally stole glances at the young lady, and found her mask firmly in place. She did not look _happy_ to be dancing with him, and her look of triumph slowly faded as she realized she was punishing herself nearly as much as him, but he thought he could also see a look of firm resolution. She would extract the full punishment upon him, even at the expense of her own evening, but what was the offense? If she was setting her cap for him, she was using a stratagem completely beyond him, and if she was offended by him in some way, why would she want to dance? People did not go out of their way to dance with people they disliked. That would be nonsensical.

At length, he took an opportunity where the dance allowed them a few words that nobody else could hear to opine, "I believe we must have _some_ conversation, madam."

She replied archly, _"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?"_

He strongly suspected that she did, but his custom was to just get the miserable chore over as quickly and easily as possible. He was not particularly fond of dancing, but if she was to get her full measure of revenge, he would not go down without a fight, so he replied somewhat curtly, _"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."_

She replied, _"Yes, I suppose we must speak a little, but I believe a very little will suffice."_

He had to admit he quite surprisingly found himself liking her impertinence. She was not a shrinking violet that blew away at the first breeze, and yet she did not seem to have the hard edge that he saw in so many in the first circles. He could see Caroline Bingley out of the corner of his eye looking at him dancing with a look that was both angry and… _proprietary?_ He had been ignoring Bingley's sister for so long he had not quite noticed that she was apparently laying traps for him. He had no idea _why_ he had not noticed, as she was not in the least subtle about it, but he had _not_ been exercising the care he should around her.

He looked back to his present partner, still with the mixture of looks on her face, and said, "Perhaps we could get by with a very minimal discussion… just the basics. For example, since we both well know we have not been introduced, perhaps you could tell me your name."

There… that should show her that he was not a man to be trifled with. He would play society's games, but he would not be caught out a second time.

She replied, "Of course, we have been introduced. I am all astonishment that you do not remember, sir. Perhaps it is the custom in London or Donkeyshire to forget introductions within the hour?"

He was _not_ a man to be tempted by such easy bait, so he let the name of his county pass, and said, "Perhaps you could indulge me by refreshing my memory."

She gave him a calculating look, and somehow managed to perform a curtsey in the middle of the dance without looking odd, and said, "As you well know sir, I am _Miss Tolerable_. Your friend is dancing with my sister, _Miss Not Handsome Enough._ I had thought you quite gallant when you told Mr. Bingley ' _As a gentleman, I must_ g _ive consequence to young ladies who appear to be slighted by other men, but are in fact sitting out to let other ladies have a turn, since not every gentleman present is doing his customary duty.'_ "

His face showed the exact amount of alarm she had been hoping for, and he proceeded to blush furiously at the stark assertion that _she_ _had heard_ his remarks, and the not even slightly subtle reminder that he _had not acted as a gentleman_. Darcy nearly stumbled at the next turn, and she just smirked in triumph.

She looked at him in mock concern and asked, "Are you unwell sir? We may forego the remainder of the sets if you are too fatigued to dance for twenty minutes running, and I will happily alert the other ladies of your indisposition."

He had to own at that moment, that fox and chicken was not even the right analogy. Chicken and worm might be better. She had delivered a well-timed and precisely aimed setdown without uttering a single unkind word that had not originated in his own mouth; and his head was spinning in mortification. Nearly in a panic at being caught out with such ungentlemanly conduct, he considered her offer to go off and lick his wounds in private, but decided that he would own up to his behavior like a man.

Waiting for another semi-private moment, he said quietly, "I owe you an apology, Madam. I owe you a most sincere apology. Those were definitely _not_ the words of a gentleman… not even close. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. I am most profusely sorry."

Not to be so easily put off, she suggested, "Sir, I believe that a true gentleman does not even _think_ such uncharitable thoughts, let alone speak them publicly. I am only happy that by _pure happenstance_ , you said them where none but Mr. Bingley and I could hear. You only missed my mother by around half a minute. If you would like a suggestion sir, you may want to pay more attention to your surroundings next time you say something like that."

He replied with surprising vehemence, " _There will be no next time!_ "

The music ended right at that moment, and the young lady apparently satisfied that she was done with him, curtsied and started to walk away, apparently forgetting that she had forced him into a second set as well.

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley, Member of the First Circles of Society, Practically a Peer, found himself unaccountably chasing after a country miss at a country assembly like an errant schoolboy. His strides were long enough that he caught up with her in just a few steps, and held out his arm to her.

He saw her glance at it much like the aforementioned worm, but then she decided that she must finish her own game if she did not want to be the subject of gossip herself; although glancing over at the pack of matrons on the side of the room, he thought it was much too late for that. They were clearly already the subject of discussion, and he could see her take a glance in the same direction and come to the same conclusion.

They walked towards the refreshment table, and he said very quietly, "I deserve no such boon, Miss, but I do hope you will accept my apology, and my gratitude."

She looked at him in complete puzzlement, and said, "Gratitude, sir?"

He sighed and said, "Yes, gratitude. Some lessons in life can only come the hard way, and this apparently is one. I behaved abominably, and I would appreciate any opportunity to correct it."

She looked at him carefully, apparently trying to judge his sincerity, and said, "Very well, I accept your apology, sir."

He asked, "Will you accept my gratitude as well?"

She actually lost a tiny bit of the fury in her eyes, perhaps reverted slightly towards her normal demeanor, and replied, "If I must."

"I insist"

With that, she actually giggled a little bit, apparently not really built for maintaining anger over the long term.

Darcy asked, "May I presume to offer you some refreshments while we await our second set?"

She looked slightly alarmed at the reminder of her own trap, but she had apparently decided to accept his apology, and she simply nodded.

Darcy left her in the company of one of her friends, a Miss Lucas, after she performed introductions, and went to the refreshment table for some punch.

Upon his return with refreshments for both ladies, he found them chatting happily and simply joined their circle for the remaining few minutes before the start of their second set.


	2. Second Dance

As they lined up for the second set, Darcy decided a little impertinence might go a long way, and asked, "Would it be overly forward for me to suggest that you are a practical person, and also not a proponent of gossip."

The lady looked at him critically, and replied, "Not overly forward, but I would query upon what evidence you base this conclusion?"

Eying a group that prominently featured her mother, he said, "If you were, those matrons would be driving the stake and gathering the kindling as we speak."

That brought a completely unexpected small laugh and even a shy smile from the young lady. She tried to regain her severe demeanor, but apparently that was an art she had little practice in, particularly when the gentleman answered with his own smile. She was a bit surprised to find him quite handsome when he lost his forbidding attitude.

As for the gentleman, his chances of retaining any trace of anger at the young lady were completely dashed. He found her laughter to be completely enchanting. He had already found h _er figure to be light and pleasing_ , and had to once again berate himself for his unkind and thoroughly inaccurate remarks.

After that spark of levity, the musicians started the dance and it was a few minutes before a somewhat private conversation could be reestablished.

After going down the line, Elizabeth asked, "Was there a reason my propensity for gossip is at question, sir?"

He smiled a bit and said, "Oh yes! There is actually quite a practical reason for the question, and I am a pragmatic man… as I suspect you are."

Another brief interlude was required for actual dancing… after all, they were in a dance.

At length, she answered, "You are half right, sir. I am reasonably certain I am not a man, but I do believe I have a practical bent. To what does this pertain?"

He grinned again, finding their repartee so much more interesting than the typical insipid drivel that passed for conversation in assembly halls. He suspected that if he could extract himself from the doghouse, he might find her manners most pleasing, but he certainly was not out yet.

After another turn around a circle, he gave her another lopsided grin, and replied, "From a practical standpoint, I suspect the gossip production may not be optimal for our purposes if I keep calling you _Miss Tolerable_ , and I suspect your adopted name for your sister will not suit your purposes either."

Elizabeth laughed again, slightly longer, and asked, "Would you suggest another name, sir?"

Darcy suggested, "Easily done, madam. I would suggest _Miss Generous._ "

A raise of a single eyebrow was sufficient to query for more details, so the gentleman after another turn continued, "You have _generously_ agreed to spend your hard won leisure time assisting a blind man to learn to dance, and simultaneously giving instruction in deportment to the stupidest man in England!"

That did it. The lady dissolved in a laugh that could be heard all across the room, quite possibly at Netherfield as well, and gifted him with one of her brilliant and hopefully less rare smiles.

Darcy could hear the matrons preparing themselves to share the tale far and wide, but oddly enough found he did not mind. He had made a lady happy in a dance. A man could not be faulted for that, could he?

He saw Miss Bingley turn red and stalk off the dance floor, so apparently someone could, but found he was even less concerned with her than with the matrons. For just a moment, for the first time since Ramsgate, he was just happy with his lot. Such a state was entirely surprising, and he did not expect it to last long. The lady would recover her anger soon enough, but for the moment, all was well.

Another turn down the line brought them back together, and she executed another neatly disguised curtsey, and said simply, "Elizabeth Bennet"

Following her lead, he executed a bow disguised as a misstep and answered, "I am delighted to meet you, Miss Bennet. Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service"

With proper introductions performed… well, not _strictly_ proper but much better than his last attempt, the pair concentrated on the dance for a bit. Both were somewhat surprised to discover the other to be light of foot and elegant in the dance when they were not spending all their efforts staring daggers at each other.

They even briefly made a try at normal conversation with forays into the weather and the state of the roads, but since neither of them could suppress a giggle at each attempt, they finally gave it up as a lost cause.

The dance ended as all dances must, but both found themselves curiously reluctant to part company.

After the easy camaraderie of the start of the dance, Darcy found himself a little bit nervous, but exerted himself to ask, "Miss Bennet, may I offer you more refreshment?"

The obvious shyness of the request dissolved any remaining doubts in Elizabeth's mind. In the end, she really was no more capable of holding a grudge than Jane was, but she found herself perhaps for the first time in her life a bit on the shy side as well. After such an ignominious beginning, could they perhaps make something of their acquaintance? She would have been completely certain it was impossible an hour previously, but she found she actually liked this man standing beside her. He was a man of such consequence that she would never be any more than a trifling acquaintance, but she thought if she could chip away just a bit more at his obvious reserve, he may be a man worth spending a few hours with before he returned to his home. The slight that began the evening was long-forgotten, and she was only grateful that somehow the fates had spared her the indignity of it being overheard; and she had managed to _just barely_ prevent herself from sharing it with a soul. That would have been a calamity impossible to overcome.

Such was her pensiveness that the gentleman was starting to fidget nervously, so she simply smiled, nodded her head, and then boldly reached over to take his arm which he had not had the nerve to offer. His smile lit up his face to such an extent, that she found herself quite satisfied with her evening's work thus far.

They took their punch and stood conversing on the side of the room through much of the next dance, where they were joined by Charlotte Lucas, who had the temerity to ask Mr. Darcy, "How do you like Hertfordshire so far, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy simply smiled and said, "I like it very much. The country is much less wild than what I'm used to in Derbyshire, and I have not been through that much of it, but what I have seen I like."

Charlotte owned that they would like to see Derbyshire or the Peaks District one day.

Elizabeth added, "I believe my aunt and uncle may go there next summer, and there is some chance I will be able to join them. I think I would like that very much."

Charlotte's next partner came to take her for their set. Elizabeth noted that John Lucas appeared to be thinking of asking her for a dance, but a quick shake of her head dissuaded him for the moment. They had been friends since childhood. John would come to her aid anytime it was required, but there would never be any more than friendship between them.

After Charlotte's departure, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy found themselves in quite easy conversation about traveling, books and music, finding a surprisingly ease between them, and a quite happy commonality of interests. Most of the first dance of the next set was spent in contented discussion, and both were satisfied when nobody, not even Mr. Bingley, disturbed their little circle.

Elizabeth asked, "Mr. Darcy, have you ever toured the continent?

Elizabeth thought it a perfectly innocent question, but noticed a look of sadness appeared over the gentleman.

He answered somewhat sadly, "I had a grand tour planned, but it was cut short when my father died some eight years ago. I had to take over management of our estate, and the raising of my sister."

Elizabeth's face registered surprise, and then she looked at him with a newfound bit of understanding. He could not possibly have been much older than she was right now, when he had to shoulder such responsibility. Perhaps the burden of carrying that for eight years had left him a little bit rough around the edges, so she should reserve her judgment and almost certainly discard any first impressions.

She replied, "Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry. That must have been very difficult. How old is your sister?"

The gentleman looked inward a bit, and answered almost mechanically, "Georgianna is now 15."

"A difficult age, I am sure!"

She happened to be looking at Lydia at the time. Said sister had clearly made at least one too many trips to the punch table. She was somewhat embarrassing, but nothing out of the ordinary for a Bennet. She hoped Mr. Darcy was not too mortified by the two youngest.

Such was her attention on Lydia that she almost missed the slight gasp that came from Mr. Darcy; since he controlled it very quickly.

He asked, "What makes you think she is trying? What have you heard?"

Elizabeth guessed that she may have stepped closer to the mark then she had intended, but worked to reassure the gentleman, "Nothing at all, Mr. Darcy. I did not even know you had a sister. It was simply a general comment that applies almost universally to 15-year-old girls. My case in point…" She said as she nodded her head towards Lydia.

She could almost see the tension draining out of the gentleman's face and shoulders, and hoped that she had not unduly upset their delicate balance. She next noticed he was apparently deep in thought for a moment, so she simply kept her peace and waited patiently. He would be back sooner or later.

At length, Darcy said, "Are you knowledgeable about such things, Miss Bennet?"

Preferring the less serious version of Mr. Darcy, she said, "You do realize that I have four sisters, and the two Lucas daughters may as well be sisters. I believe I know a great deal about young ladies, both trying and otherwise, Mr. Darcy."

Once again, Darcy thought carefully for a few moments, and then asked, "Could I… I mean… Would I ask too much if I prevail upon you to offer me some advice about my sister?"

Elizabeth was quite surprised by the question, but fortunately the answer was so obvious she need not give it any real thought, and she could worry about how surprising it was later. She replied sincerely, but at almost a whisper, "I will be most happy to assist in any way I can, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy looked around at the assembly room, and said, "It cannot be here." Then he thought a moment, and somewhat shyly added, "Would you mind if I call on you tomorrow? Perhaps we could walk out?"

Elizabeth found herself returning her own shy little smile, and said "That would make me happy."

Darcy noted the rather unconventional reply, and suspected that this young lady did not say words she did not mean. A more traditional reply might have indicated she would accept such a visit either gladly or not; but this answer was a clear indication that she was more than doing her civil duty, that she would genuinely enjoy the company… or that she was just nicer than the average woman, or that they just said things differently here in Hertfordshire. Darcy thought to himself, ' _Don't get ahead or yourself Darcy, you are not as knowledgeable about women as you think'._

Elizabeth glanced over towards her sister Jane, who was still apparently in close discussion with Mr. Bingley. She smiled a bit of a naughty smile possibly suggesting minor mischief, and suggested, "If you do not object Mr. Darcy, perhaps when we walk out, your privacy would be better insured if our chaperone was somewhat… er… distracted."

Darcy gave a chuckle, accompanied by another smile, and said, "I shan't even need my horse tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth. All I need do is tie a rope to Bingley, and he will drag me quite comfortably to Longbourn, and in probably less time."

With that, both laughed quite heartily, although they did their best to at least maintain some sense of decorum. Elizabeth glanced over at her mother, and knew that she would have a trying remainder of the evening once the assembly was over.


	3. Third Dance

The rest of the dance that they were sitting out found them visited off and on by various acquaintances, and Elizabeth was happy to introduce Mr. Darcy to those who had not had the opportunity. Near the end of the dance, Elizabeth asked a question that had been bothering her.

"Mr. Darcy, are you still opposed to gossip sir?"

"Why?"

Elizabeth gave a bit of a cheeky grin and replied somewhat impertinently, "A single syllable? Is this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, a man of sense and education who has lived in the world cannot come up with a more weighty reply?"

Darcy smiled and replied, "I thoroughly, conscientiously and with the utmost humility concede your point, Miss Bennet! My friend Bingley opines that I fill all of my letters with four-syllable words. Perhaps I should write down my replies before delivering them?"

"Oh heavens no! I am only a poor female, and I'm not sure I know any four-syllable words at all."

"Are you certain you do not know any four-syllable words, Miss E-liz-a-beth?"

Both dissolved into a minor fit of giggling, although they tried to keep their mirth at least within reasonable bounds. By mutual agreement, they both came to the conclusion that the exchange was entirely ridiculous, yet diverting as well.

When their amusement had run its course, Elizabeth finally replied, "Perhaps, I should answer your question, sir?"

"I believe it would be useful."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I am afraid that I am going to request a rather onerous task of you Mr. Darcy. I hope you will not mind."

Darcy looked at her more seriously, and said, "I will agree to your suggestion in advance, but you have left me insatiably curious."

Coming to the heart of the matter, Elizabeth said, "I would like to request that you dance perhaps two more sets, sir."

Darcy gave her a bit of a shocked expression, and said, "We have already danced two sets. With the third set we would be practically engaged, and a fourth set would require grandchildren."

Elizabeth look shocked at the suggestion. The man was obviously either completely undone by the very idea, or he was simply being his own brand of impertinent, as his face was uncharacteristically inscrutable. She really could not decide which explanation most suited. Either way, she gasped in surprise and very quickly corrected, "Not with me! Heavens no! I mean with two _other_ ladies, of course."

Blowing out a breath of tension at the near miss, or more likely being the victim of Mr. Darcy's somewhat wicked sense of humor, she added breathlessly, "Do not be alarmed sir! I will introduce you to ladies for whom it will not be a punishment, but I would be much in your debt if you would oblige me."

Darcy looked at her carefully, and said simply, "I will of course do as you ask. I believe I still owe you a rather large debt of civility, although I will not consider this to be in any way repayment."

Elizabeth shook her head, and said "Oh no, this will not do! Our wretched beginning is long forgotten, and I would hope that you have done the same. Let there be no debts of civility between us, Mr. Darcy. You would however be doing me a service if you perform this task."

"How so?"

Now finally coming around to her point, Elizabeth glanced over towards her mother, and said, "Should you perform the chore, it will be good for your reputation, and consequently Mr. Bingley's, because then you will simply be a gentleman doing his duty at an assembly. Our convention in assemblies is that gentlemen should dance if there are ladies without a partner, so you will simply be seen as polite and dutiful."

Darcy had to agree with her reasoning, and he could see how his poor showing at the beginning of the night may have reflected poorly on Bingley, which was not to his design, however he was not _quite_ satisfied with the lady's answer.

Looking carefully at her, he replied, "Miss Bennet. I will of course follow your instructions to the letter, but perhaps you are not entirely _complete_ in your rationale?"

With another glance at her mother, Elizabeth added with what looked to Darcy like a somewhat either pained or shamed expression, "It would also make my life over the next month immeasurably easier if you were _not_ thought to be paying _particular_ attention to me."

Only then did Darcy see the full magnitude of how poorly thought out the entire scheme had been. He was quite satisfied with the way things had worked out, but he could also see that a mother such as Miss Elizabeth's would demand that she start throwing herself at him, applying whatever arts and allurements her mother thought were appropriate, and trying to secure him as a husband. He could see the whole thing playing out in his mind without the slightest difficulty. She would be locked in the drawing room awaiting his calls every day, probably forced to endure purchases of new clothing, and jewelry, and ribbons and bonnets and… All of this would be delivered with an endless stream of nonsensical advice. He could imagine it as if he were living it himself, and was loathe to subject his worst enemy to such treatment, let alone this young lady.

"Miss Bennet, I can see that my poor manners have certainly placed you in a precarious position, and I shall rectify the situation immediately. I am at your disposal. Who do you recommend as dance partners? "

"Have no fear Mr. Darcy, I will introduce you properly. I suggest Miss Lucas and either Miss Golding or perhaps one of my sisters. I believe that should do the trick."

Darcy nodded his head in acknowledgment, and said, "The current set appears to have a quarter hour yet to go, so we should go secure the partners soon."

Elizabeth agreed to the scheme, and just as they were about to work their way over to where she expected Charlotte to appear after her current dance, she glanced over the gentleman's shoulder at a small commotion that was going on at the entryway. She looked curiously at a pair of new arrivals, and asked Mr. Darcy's opinion.

"Mr. Darcy, do you know anything about the militia regiment that is to quarter in Meryton for the winter?"

"No, Miss Bennet, I am afraid I do not. Why do you ask at this particular time?"

Elizabeth nodded towards the entryway and said, "I believe their commander has decided to scout the society in advance. That does appear to be a Colonel's uniform if I am not mistaken. I must say though that his wife appears to be _very_ young. Why she's hardly any older than my youngest sister Lydia!"

Not particularly interested in some regimental colonel, but aware that it may be of more importance to Miss Bennet, Darcy turned to glance over at the newcomers. As he turned, Elizabeth got a good look at his expression, and was surprised to see his face light up in surprise, and perhaps consternation; followed almost immediately by what she was almost certain was anger, then it was schooled into a hard neutrality?

Darcy replied, "You are correct that he is a colonel, but he is not militia. He is with the regulars."

Elizabeth did not know if she was surprised by his in-depth knowledge of military matters or not, so she asked, "How can you tell? Is the uniform differ…"

She never quite managed to get her question out, because she somehow, quite unaccountably, found herself moving across the floor with her hand reattached to Mr. Darcy's arm, without any conscious volition. She had to hurry her steps a little so that she could look like a lady crossing the floor with some degree of decorum, rather than a trout being hauled in by a fishing line. Mr. Darcy crossed the floor relatively quickly, but skillfully avoided all of the dancers, while carefully weaving a path that had them avoiding all of the matrons, all of the Bingley sisters, and Sir William. Elizabeth was impressed by the skill with which the route had been chosen with just a few seconds assessment.

She soon found herself approaching the officer and the young lady by his side, when she heard Mr. Darcy begin to answer her question.

"You are correct that the uniforms are different Miss Bennet, but that's not how I know he is with the regulars. I know because he is my cousin."

With that small bit of information, they came to an abrupt stop right in front of the officer and the young lady, who was indeed quite young, and very pretty.

The officer immediately said something that made no real sense to Elizabeth, "You know what she's like Darce! I really had no choice. She threatened to come alone."

If this was an example of the fighting men facing Napoleon, Elizabeth began to wonder about the safety of the Empire. This one apparently could not handle a fifteen year old girl.

Glancing at Mr. Darcy, she saw what looked like a burning ball of anger that was likely to explode soon. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, and then belatedly remembered their manners. The young lady had yet to say a single word, nor did she look likely to do so anytime soon.

Elizabeth was starting to get a bit nervous with the tension in the group, when it was relieved slightly by Mr. Darcy performing introductions.

Mr. Darcy made a slight bow and said, "Georgiana, may I introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet to you. Miss Bennet, my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

Ah, so this was the mysterious sister! Elizabeth performed a courtesy as was proper, mirrored by the young lady. Seeing that Mr. Darcy was still on the angry side, she thought perhaps a little civility might smooth things over.

"Miss Darcy, I am so happy to meet you. Your brother has spoken fondly of you, and I have been looking forward to it exceedingly."

Darcy gave her a look of perhaps gratitude, or perhaps appraisal, before continuing the introductions.

"Miss Bennet, may I introduce my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

The usual courtesies were exchanged between the two, and the Colonel exerted himself to say, "Miss Bennet, I am most happy to make your acquaintance."

Looking between the two cousins, Elizabeth detected there was still an undercurrent of tension between them which did not bode well for whatever discussion they might decide to be engaged in here in the middle of the assembly. She was in no mood to have her plans for escaping her mother be thwarted by the sudden appearance of a mere colonel and a sister, so she decided she would have to once again jump into the breach.

Glancing at the officer, she said, "Colonel, are you fond of dancing?"

The Colonel, perhaps not being quite prepared for such a forward question from a stranger less than a minute after introductions, but an amiable and easy-going man nonetheless said, "I most certainly am, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth looked carefully at the mysterious sister, who had yet to say more than a bare few words. Elizabeth suspected she was probably just shy, or perhaps overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings. Based on what the Colonel had said, Miss Darcy may have been the driving force for getting them to the assembly, but she clearly had no idea what to do next. Elizabeth remembered being 15, and had a fine example elsewhere in the room, so he knew exactly what the young lady needed. She clearly and obviously needed Jane Bennet! First though, some preliminaries must be dispensed with.

Glancing at the young lady, she said softly, "Miss Darcy, are you also fond of dancing?"

Miss Darcy exerted herself to reply, "I am not yet out, Miss Bennet."

This was not particularly news to Elizabeth. It was fairly certain that a girl of her station would not be out at 15. Since the young lady clearly did not normally travel in these circles, she did not understand how assemblies worked in the countryside. A little bit of information should be sufficient to relieve the young lady of her suffering, and perhaps keep Mr. Darcy from causing any undue problems.

"Have no fear, Miss Darcy! This is not a London ballroom, this is a country assembly. All are welcome here, and so long as you refrain from dancing with anyone other than a family member, propriety will be maintained perfectly. Fortunately, you have two convenient family members standing right here, or you need not dance at all. I have four sisters and numerous friends, and I am certain we could amuse you for days, let alone the few hours left in this assembly."

Darcy and Fitzwilliam stared at her in wonderment, not knowing whether this assertive young lady was to be encouraged or feared, but then Elizabeth saw her mother, Mrs. Lucas, and Miss Bingley all moving in their direction, so she thought it might be best to make their escape quickly.

Glancing at Mr. Darcy to get his attention, and then rolling her eyes towards the oncoming onslaught, she extended her arm to the young lady and said, "Come along Miss Darcy, you must meet my sisters. Colonel, if you are in search of dance partners, I will be happy to introduce you to some amiable ladies as well. Mr. Darcy was just on his way over to dance the next set, but I am sure there will be partners left for you."

Thinking that motion was preferable to hiding, she bodily dragged Miss Darcy across the floor using nearly the same technique Miss Darcy's brother had used on Elizabeth five minutes prior. Her goal was clear, and she went directly towards a small cluster that included Jane, Charlotte and unaccountably Mary.

As she started walking away, she signaled Mr. Darcy that he probably should follow her, and not knowing what else to do, he acceded to the implied demand. As he started walking side-by-side with his cousin, the Colonel asked him quietly from the side of his mouth, "Is this force of nature in charge of all dancing at this assembly Darcy?"

Darcy just chuckled, and said, "Not for everyone… just us!"

A few moments were sufficient to bring the small party over to the cluster of ladies Elizabeth had been aiming for, and Elizabeth set out to make introductions all the way around. She had to make some assumptions about order of precedence, but since she was the only one that knew every person in the group, the introductions fell to her lot.

Once sufficient interactions, bows, curtsies and small courtesies were exchanged, Elizabeth noticed the musicians preparing to start the next set. She had somehow managed to stop with Miss Darcy still clinging to her arm as if for dear life, with Mr. Darcy to her left standing directly in front of Charlotte Lucas. She could not really say anything in the present company, but she surreptitiously moved her foot over and tapped him on the side of the foot. When he glanced her way, she looked significantly at Charlotte, which resulted in Mr. Darcy's saying, "Miss Lucas, may I have the pleasure of the next set?"

Charlotte, not one to be surprised or intimidated by just about anything that was likely to happen at an assembly, was nevertheless astounded by this particular address. She was a little bit surprised when she was asked to dance by anybody, but a man of Mr. Darcy's consequence was a great surprise indeed. She glanced at Lizzy, and suspected this was all her doing somehow, but she was entirely satisfied and took Mr. Darcy's arm to move away to the dance floor.

The Colonel, knowing instruction when he saw it, bowed slightly and said, "Miss Mary, might I have the privilege?"

Mary did not have the slightest idea how to respond to Colonel asking her to dance, so she simply stood there staring at him until Elizabeth leaned over and whispered quietly, "Have no fear Mary. I will be right here watching for you, and he does not even appear to have his sword."

With a sheepish little grin, Mary took the Colonel's arm and went to line up next to Darcy and Charlotte.

Turning to Miss Darcy, Elizabeth gave her a small wink, and said "Now we are safe, Miss Darcy! My sister Jane and I shall take care of you. All will be well."


	4. Fourth Dance

Another twenty minutes saw Elizabeth eying her handiwork with an expression of smug satisfaction. Everything was as it should be. The young Miss Darcy had come in looking like a cross between a scared rabbit and an angry bear. Colonel Fitzwilliam clearly saw only the latter, and Elizabeth saw only the former, but she could see that the young lady probably had something else to her story. Mr. Darcy's question had implied that there was a _specific_ difficulty that she was facing, and Elizabeth was determined to get to the bottom of it… eventually.

The Colonel was as she had expected on their brief meeting, a jovial man light on his feet, ready with a laugh; and apparently implacable in his good humor, as he managed to even drag a muffled giggle out of Mary! _Her Sister Mary_ … _Dancing_ and _Happy_ at a ball… The world had run completely amok!

Elizabeth found herself somewhat chagrined to be watching Mr. Darcy dance with Charlotte with much more careful attention to the gentleman than she would have expected. She did find him now to be an amiable man, but she knew well nothing would ever come of it. However, that did not prevent just the slightest pang of… What was it? Jealousy? Impossible!

As to the young lady, the prescribed remedy had been all that was required. No bad humor could possibly survive twenty minutes in the company of Jane Bennet, and so everything was going as per plan. Nothing in particular was said between Miss Darcy and Jane, but Jane's serene countenance and easy manner were enough to settle the young girl down, and bring her back to a level of some comfort; as Elizabeth determined by paying almost as much attention to her as to her brother.

At length, Miss Darcy put the sequence of events together, and determined that the eldest Miss Bennett had never even spoken to her brother, so it must be the second eldest who had somehow arranged all the chess pieces on the board to her design.

"Miss Elizabeth, I find myself all in astonishment at the events of the evening!"

Elizabeth, deciding impertinence was obviously the required ingredient replied, "Yes Miss Darcy, I daresay your brother was not expecting you in the least!"

Elizabeth watched the young lady carefully to see how much of a sense of humor she had, and was rewarded with a small self-satisfied smirk on her countenance, and the reply, "Yes, he certainly did not expect me here; but that was not the _particular_ surprise to which I was referring."

"Whatever could you mean, Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth asked with an expression of perfect innocence.

"How long have you known my brother, Miss Bennett", Miss Darcy asked carefully, "as I am _most_ surprised to find him thus engaged. I would say I was astonished if I had not already used that word, and I cannot at the moment think of a stronger expression of my surprise."

Elizabeth, not quite done toying with her prey, said, "We are at an assembly, Miss Darcy. It is the custom to dance."

Ms. Darcy, replied quietly, "Are you avoiding my question, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Oh dear, I completely missed the question, Miss Darcy", and then glancing at the clock, she added, "I believe I have known Mr. Darcy for approximately 87 minutes. I am afraid I cannot be more precise, as I was not paying strict attention to the clock during the introduction."

Georgiana gasped in surprise, and replied, "87 minutes you say!"

Smiling impishly, Elizabeth said, "88 now."

This sent the younger Miss Darcy into a fit of giggles, which was more or less what Elizabeth had been hoping for. Elizabeth grinned along with her, and they enjoyed the moment. She noticed Mr. Darcy coming very close by them as the dance moved them down the line, and he was staring at the two of them giggling together in either open‑mouth astonishment, or red-faced embarrassment… It was hard to tell with Mr. Darcy.

Georgiana became a little more serious and said, "And how, Miss Elizabeth, in 87 minutes have you learned to direct my brother's dancing exploits… and apparently my cousin as well?"

Elizabeth replied, "Oh, you have it all wrong Miss Darcy. I am not directing either gentleman!"

Georgiana, not to be put off by half-truths, or even quarter truths, replied, "So you are asserting that _absent your intervention, my brother would be dancing with Miss Lucas, and my cousin would be dancing with your sister?_ "

Elizabeth grinned and said, "It's hard to say with your cousin, as he seems quite amenable to dancing, but I must confess that your brother is dancing with my friend at my explicit request."

Georgiana asked, "And has he danced with others this evening?"

Elizabeth replied, "Of course! He is here with the Bingley sisters, and it would be exceedingly impolite to fail to dance with the ladies of your own party. He has danced with each of them."

"Once again Miss Elizabeth, pardon my impertinence, but might I detect the slightest bit of prevarication on your part?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Five syllables Miss Darcy, you are certainly your brother's sister."

Miss Darcy, not to be put off again, said, "Have you outlined his _entire_ history of dancing this evening, Miss Elizabeth?"

Jane was watching the exchange carefully, mostly finding amusement in the tête-à-tête. She was just waiting for the last brick to fall, and expecting to find it most diverting.

Elizabeth, knowing the game was just about up anyway, said, "I should perhaps mention that he just may have danced… "

Jane, could not stand anymore, and inserted quickly, "… _Two sets with Lizzy_!"

Miss Darcy's mouth dropped in astonishment, much to Jane's amusement, and perhaps Elizabeth's chagrin. The surprise was apparently enough to practically spellbind the young girl.

At length, Miss Darcy regained her composure, and timidly asked, "Two sets!"

"Yes, two sets."

"Four dances?"

"Yes, four dances"

"One full hour!"

"Yes, one hour of dancing, but of course we have been conversing for another half hour or so."

"Conversing"

"Yes"

"At an assembly"

"As you see"

Elizabeth looked at the girl in puzzlement, wondering what had her so confused.

Georgiana just shook her head, looked at Miss Bennet carefully and asked quietly, "Do you know how long my brother has been in society, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked perplexed at the odd question, but decided to go along.

"I would hazard around a decade, Miss Darcy."

"That is close enough for this discussion, Miss Elizabeth. In that time, do you know how many ladies he has danced two sets in one evening with?"

Elizabeth, finding it an even odder question, said, "He must have been to many balls in that time. I would imagine dozens, perhaps hundreds?"

Georgiana, feeling the full sweetness of revenge at the impertinence she had been subjected to, smirked and replied, "Exactly one!"

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open, and reduced to monosyllables said, "One!"

"One"

"So only one lady besides me?"

"Only one lady _including_ you."

"Oh dear", Elizabeth sighed. Perhaps, stopping the next attack of her mother might require more than just two dances.

She replied, "Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to keep that little bit of information to yourself, Miss Darcy?"

Georgiana just grinned in triumph, and said, "Perhaps, but I believe you are in my debt for a story, Miss Elizabeth… and I will have it all.", apparently reverting to the growling bear mode of address.

As Elizabeth sat wondering just what kind of a mess she had made of the affair, the first dance of the current set ended, and the two pairs of dancers returned to the group, feigning fatigue or injury with varying levels of credibility. It would be clear to anyone with any sense that they mostly suffered from curiosity.

As Charlotte walked by she said quietly, "I will have the _entire_ story on the morrow Lizzy."

Lizzy just nodded, not wanting to say anything that might be overheard by the group, and to be honest, watching Mr. Darcy for his reaction. That gentleman looked at her carefully, and nodded towards Jane. Elizabeth acknowledged her next victim with a slow blink of her eyes and the evening was decided.

Mr. Darcy stared daggers at his sister, but it seemed to Elizabeth that he was not likely to be as strict a disciplinarian as his initial countenance would imply. He looked much more like the doting brother type, once you knew what to look for. She took the opportunity to lean over and say as softly as possible, "Please be easy Mr. Darcy. My more sensible sisters and I will look after her. All will be well."

Darcy chuckled and said, "Georgiana has actually arranged her own punishment, and I must say it is far worse than anything I would ever impose on her. She will be a guest at Netherfield _with the Bingley sisters_."

Elizabeth was thoroughly shocked at the forwardness of the assertion. Learning the Bingley sisters were not ideal living companions would not come as a surprise, as that could be readily determined from a dozen paces; but having Mr. Darcy say it so impertinently came as a shock.

She rallied herself and replied, "Punishment indeed! She may walk to Longbourn before long; it is only three miles you know. I have walked it many times, and with five daughters; I daresay she could take up residence and it would be a full month before either of my parents noticed one extra."

Darcy smiled and said, "Be careful what you wish for, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth leaned in and said, "If you do not oppose the idea sir, perhaps your cousin might like to dance with your sister?"

Darcy looked at his sister and simply replied, "Perhaps".

The end of the dance naturally signaled the beginning of the assault that had been feared and mostly avoided. The first salvo was fired by the expected enemy contingent.

"Oh Mr. Darcy, you are such a lovely dancer, and you looked so elegant on the dance floor with my Lizzy. Oh, it was the loveliest dance I have ever seen! And your coat sir! So dashing! So elegant! I am quit speechless…"

Elizabeth thought that perhaps her mother differed with her in the precise meaning of the word _speechless_ as the matron prattled on for some time.

Not to be outdone, Lady Lucas had to have her share in the conversation.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy. I am certain my Charlotte must have been the most agreeable dance partner, and may I say what a handsome couple you make. You are so light on your feet, sir…"

Lizzy and Charlotte both turned bright red in embarrassment, and would never be able to remember a quarter of what was said since most of it was terribly mortifying. They had years of training for moments such as these, but no amount of practice ever quite prepared one for the real thing.

For his part, Mr. Darcy looked quite uncomfortable, but exerted himself to remain civil and answer with a few meaningless platitudes; although Elizabeth could see thunderclouds crossing his visage in the process.

Mrs. Bennet showed no signs of slacking in her effusions, and surprisingly it was Mary who finally pulled her away, giving Elizabeth a significant look indicating a debt was owed and would be collected.

The next assault on her ears came from Miss Bingley, but even that lady had just barely enough sense to not attempt to separate the group. Elizabeth would later try to remember exactly what Miss Bingley said, but she found her condescending prattle even harder to listen to and remember than her mother's, probably because she had not had so long to work her way up to the task.

Searching for any excuse to shut the effusive Miss Bingley up, she looked around for a distraction. Any distraction would do, and sure enough, another commotion at the door signaled the entry of yet another new participant. Judging by the looks of the bystanders, they must not be local residents, but Elizabeth could not see them yet.

In a bid to silence Miss Bingley, she said, "Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley, it would appear we are to have another new visitor. Are any more from your party expected?"


	5. Fifth Dance

With what was beginning to feel like long-established custom, Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy as he turned around to face the entrance to find out who was arriving. Elizabeth was surprised by the fact that the motion seemed very comfortable and familiar to her, despite the fact that she had never laid eyes on the man before the beginning of the evening; and had been practically ready to murder him a mere two hours past. Now, she found him to be quite possibly the most interesting man of her acquaintance. She could not really say what _specifically_ he had done to earn her approbation, but he most certainly had done it somehow. Once you got through the rough veneer he kept on the outside, he was an exceedingly charming man, and he seemed to be the only man of her acquaintance that seemed to understand her ironic sense of humor, and appreciated rather than looked down on her education. His obvious concern and care for his sister and his duty also spoke volumes.

Examining his face as he watched the entrance was like some type of character study from her father's classic literature. She could see from the angle that he would probably see the newcomers before she did, which disappointed her. She knew everybody in the neighborhood, but so did everyone else. If the newcomers were locals, there would have been no commotion, so therefore this must be the fourth unknown person to enter the assembly since the arrival of the Netherfield party, and possibly a fifth; which was most singular indeed.

Turning her attention from Mr. Darcy to the entrance she saw a young lady of perhaps five and twenty years, who was dressed _most_ elegantly, although somewhat rumpled. Her dress was clearly of the finest silk, but she also looked like she had been in a carriage for hours. She was followed by a man who could not possibly be described as anything other than an oddity. He was of middle years, short and portly, with scraggly hair and a bald spot poorly hidden with combing. He had apparently been in the same carriage for the same number of hours, or possibly dragged behind it with a rope, based on his appearance. He seemed to be carrying on some type of endless prattle, which said young lady was completely ignoring; but the parson did not appear to have the insight to realize how little attention she was paying.

In her new favorite amusement, she watched Mr. Darcy's expression go from curious, to surprised, to alarmed; much as it had with his sister, so she had to conclude that Mr. Darcy did in fact know the young lady, or perhaps the parson; and he was even less happy to see them unexpectedly than he was his sister and the colonel.

By some curious and unconscious movement, both she and Mr. Darcy had separated themselves from the matrons, and the other young ladies and gentlemen of their little group, so they were far enough apart that they could speak softly and not be heard. Glancing around Elizabeth was certain they were safe before saying softly, "It appears you have more acquaintances visiting our little assembly this evening, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy's face settled back into more neutral posture for a moment and then she could see some flickers of amusement crossing it. Apparently, there was some diversion to be had here if she were simply patient. Her forbearance was rewarded but a moment later, when the young lady saw Darcy across the floor, and started walking towards him. She was dragging the parson behind her apparently by sheer force of her presence like a loadstone, since she had yet to speak to him or acknowledge him in any way, yet he followed along like a duckling.

As she started across the floor, Darcy with a slightly sarcastic grin said, "Miss Bennett, is it too late for me to hide behind your skirts like a toddler?"

Elizabeth found that she quite liked this humorous and impertinent version of Mr. Darcy, so she replied in the same manner.

"I am afraid one skirt would hardly be sufficient to hide a man of your stature, Mr. Darcy. I do however have several sisters, so we could possibly make some type of defensive wall, should you crouch down sufficiently."

This brought the chuckle she had come to expect. She looked over towards the Colonel expecting him to be curiously watching the entrance as well, but he was oddly enough engaged in conversation with Mary, and not overly curious about the newcomers, or perhaps he had not noticed the commotion, or maybe he saw the young lady and was trying to avoid her. The evening was full of surprises!

The young lady and the parson had made a minor stir, but did not halt the entire assembly's activities as the Netherfield party had on their entrance, so most of the attendees went more or less back to their business, or at least gave the appearance of doing so; since to stare in open-mouthed curiosity would be impolite. She could see the temptation in all of her neighbors, but most managed to keep their peace; surprisingly including both her mother and Lady Lucas.

Sir William had been engaged at the other side of the assembly hall when the pair entered, and was now working his way over to perform the official welcome, as was his duty; but it was clear he would not make it for some minutes, much to Darcy's relief.

The young lady marched right up to Darcy and opened with no preliminaries at all.

"Fitzwilliam, you _must_ get me out of that madhouse. My mother and Mrs. Jenkinson will drive me mad if I stay one more day. I have been nearly eighty miles by coach to throw myself at your mercy. I went looking for you in town, and you weren't there. You could have told me you were visiting the wilderness. If mother gives me one more bit of 'advice' about how to secure my future, you will have to come visit me in Bedlam."

Elizabeth was quite surprised by this outburst. The young lady appeared to be old enough to have been in society for quite some years, but did not seem to understand the most rudimentary rules of propriety. Perhaps she had been locked in a basement, or kidnapped by the French and only recently returned, or possibly in a nunnery or the worst finishing school in the county. She can hardly wait to see how Mr. Darcy would handle the outburst.

Once again, the gentleman completely surprised her with his reply.

"Yes Anne, it is indeed lovely to see you. Are you in good health? What say you about the state of the roads? How is the weather outside; is it still fine, or has it started raining?"

Whether this was chastisement or teasing was difficult to determine, but Elizabeth was more inclined to think it was the latter. She had to do her best to suppress a cheeky grin so she could see what came of his unusual reply.

The young lady apparently took it as chastisement, perhaps not being able to believe Mr. Darcy capable of teasing; and said, "Oh! Where are my manners? Am I becoming my mother? My apologies! Please forgive me. I see introductions are in order."

She looked genuinely chagrinned, and even slightly embarrassed so Elizabeth was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt, and replied, perhaps a little bit outside of the bounds of good manners, "Do not be alarmed Miss. We do not stand _too much_ on ceremony here. All is well."

Darcy looked at her in both a smug little grin at her reference to odd orders of introduction at this particular assembly, given how their evening had begun; and perhaps also a look of gratitude for her ability to smooth over the situation. Then he became a bit thoughtful. He was apparently in a humor to meet out either punishment or valuable lessons in life, for he quite surprisingly looked at his sister, and said, "Georgianna, I believe you know everyone present. Perhaps you could make the introductions."

Miss Darcy, who had been enjoying the spectacle, was not in the least happy to be put on the spot like that. Elizabeth was satisfied to see Jane take the young girls hand, and smile encouragement at her, exactly as she would have expected. Mr. Bingley had been allowing Miss Darcy to monopolize Jane's time but he seemed quite anxious to remedy the situation, so she could see him starting to move their way from the corner where he had been conversing with one of the local gentlemen.

With all appropriate ceremony, Miss Darcy introduced the assembled group to her cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh. Elizabeth thought vaguely that she may have heard the name de Bourgh at some point, but could not place her finger on exactly where or when. It just sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps she would ask Jane about it if things ever settled down.

No sooner had the introductions been made when Elizabeth noticed that the parson had in fact _not_ been introduced. It seemed that nobody besides Miss de Bourgh knew him, and she seemed to have entirely forgotten.

The parson stood up to his full height, which unfortunately was somewhat short of even Elizabeth's, and pompously said, "Mr. Darcy, it is a delight to meet you. You will be happy to know that my illustrious patroness, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh was quite hale and hearty only one day ago when we departed Rosings… "

He seemed inclined to carry on in such a vein, but Miss de Bourgh literally hissed at him and said, "Mr. Collins, you have not even been introduced. You must not speak to Mr. Darcy in such a forward manner."

The parson puffed out his chest and said in a voice that could only be heard by Miss de Bourgh, and perhaps everyone else within a dozen paces, "My dear Miss de Bourgh, I will trust your find judgment on such matters in all ordinary circumstances, but I am of the clergy and as such we go by entirely different rules…"

Whatever he was going to say may have been interesting, or at least diverting, but Miss de Bourgh was having none of it. She held her hand up just long enough to slow the man down and said, "Mr. Collins, we really must work on your manners. At this point, you will need to either be silent, or go get some refreshment, or I may need to have you dragged out and shot. Please give the alternatives some consideration, as I can see it is a difficult choice, fraught with moral peril."

Elizabeth tried her very best to not giggle, or snigger or make any unladylike noises at that; and was mostly successful. Apparently, Mr. Darcy was not the only member of his family with a wicket sense of humor. That gentleman was apparently engaged in a similar struggle, but he finally said, "I must say Anne, being away from your mother is…er… good for your forcefulness."

The little group was still attracting the attention of nearly everyone in the assembly hall, and Elizabeth was certain that the gossip on the morrow would be heavy indeed; but it might be to her advantage, if the story of Miss de Bourgh was sufficiently diverting to keep her bloodhound of a mother off of Mr. Darcy's scent. Or, perhaps she could help the matter along.

By long standing and well established precedent, she nudged Mr. Darcy with her foot again, and nodded towards Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy saw the wisdom in her choice, and since he had not asked Miss Jane to dance yet, or even let her know that she was under orders to do so, he thought to quell discussion and move them out of the very center of the story. He asked, "Anne, would you care to dance?"

Anne de Bourgh looked at him as if he had gone insane, or possibly replaced himself with his horse, as she had never known him to voluntarily dance in his life. Fortunately, she had recovered her manners, and said, "I should be delighted, cousin."

Darcy held out his arm, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, with what Elizabeth could swear was perhaps a nudge from Mary, asked Jane, "Miss Bennet, might I have the honor of the next?"

By then, Mr. Bingley had worked his way over to the little group, but since he had already danced two sets with Miss Jane, he could obviously could not go again. He contented himself with asking Mary, and the three couples left for the dance floor, leaving Elizabeth, Charlotte, Miss Darcy and the very odd Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth decided to take some pity on the poor man who looked much like the duckling she had previously described in her mind, except without his mother. After her forcing of Mr. Darcy into a dance, talking to a clergyman without a formal introduction seemed a minor offense, so she said quietly, "Mr. Collins, is it?"

This started the man into a bout of bowing and scraping and prostrations and long-winded descriptions of his patroness and her fine domicile. Elizabeth had just about had enough and was ready to order up the men Miss de Bourgh had intimated might be willing to drag him out and shoot him, when he abruptly changed tactics, and asked her a direct question.

"Are you perchance Miss Bennet, of Longbourn?"

Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. He could have easily picked up her name from the earlier conversation, but she was certain the name of Longbourn had _not_. Perhaps he heard it on the way into the assembly, so she finally answered, "Yes."

The next ten minutes or so was spent in an endless stream of chatter from the man. She could only understand about one word in five, but eventually she learned, much to her horror where she had heard the name before. _He was the_ _dreaded cousin_ _._ Her father had told her all about him not a fortnight past, although in his usual way he had not told anyone but Elizabeth. Because of the entail, this ridiculous man was to inherit Longbourn, and apparently, from what little Elizabeth could determine from his endless prattling, he had his designs on marrying one of the Bennet daughters. Elizabeth was not certain which idea was worse, since both were so mortifying; and she thought that once her mother was onto the scent of the heir, she would be completely insufferable until she forced one of her daughters into the shackles of matrimony. She was so completely put off that she could not speak for some minutes, which the parson did not even notice such were his effusions.

Eventually, she became desperate. She tried every stratagem she could think of to get the insufferable man to cease and desist with his endless stream of chatter, but nothing worked. She tried interjecting, raising her voice, waving her hands in front of him. She even got desperate enough to kick him on the side of the boot, although not that hard. The parson as obviously not as astute as Mr. Darcy since he just continued on without interruption.

Eventually, she had all she could take. Fortunately, in her hour of need, she recalled that she was quite in Charlotte's debt for a prank. They had been playing tricks on each other for years, and the last one had ended with Elizabeth covered from head to foot in mud, and well… best not to talk about what else she was covered in. Now was the perfect time for revenge, and she had the most horrid, utterly reprehensible, downright evil prank in mind. Charlotte would _never_ be able to top this one.

Waiting for the perfect moment when even Mr. Collins must take a breath, she interjected, "Mr. Collins, are you fond of dancing?"

His reply was effusive, "For while some would consider it improper, in an assembly such as this with such gentlepeople as the current company, it could be no evil. I must say that several people, including my noble patroness herself, had commented on my lightness of foot, and I dare say I may acquit myself most admirably on the dance floor, and…"

Elizabeth took his first breath as an opportunity to say, "Excellent, sir. My friend Miss Lucas is also quite fond of dancing, and as you can see, she is currently without a partner. Allow me to introduce you."

But a moment was needed to secure the introduction and the offer for a dance, and Mr. Collins was off with Miss Lucas, much to Elizabeth's immense relief. She had no idea how much Charlotte had overheard, but she was so happy to be rid of Mr. Collins, she would not repent her actions; although she suspected Charlotte's revenge would be extensive and extravagant, _if_ she could think up something sufficient horrible but not _quite_ fatal.

As she took a deep breath, she reveled in the momentary silence, and hoped that with Miss Darcy settled down after Jane's ministrations, she might be able to have a short conversation with her; although she certainly intended to talk to the young Miss Darcy at some length given the opportunity later.

As she turned to Miss Darcy, and surprisingly, Mary who had abandoned her book entirely and was still with her, she heard Mary say the most extraordinary thing.

"Lizzy… Do you realize you probably just made Charlotte Lucas the next mistress of Longbourn?"


	6. Sixth Dance

Once again, the dancers retreated from the dance floor before the second dance of the set was complete. Elizabeth was beginning to worry that the Netherfield group would acquire a reputation for lacking stamina. She could only hope the next assembly they attended might be somewhat less madcap.

Miss Darcy turned out to be a shy, but amiable young lady when she wasn't being suspicious about the content of the evening. She was apparently quite gifted at the pianoforte and Elizabeth shared an interesting discussion about their respective favorite composers. Elizabeth was happy to have someone other than Mary to discuss such things with. Mary was the only other Bennet sister with any pretensions of musical talent, but her taste in composers ran nearly opposite to Elizabeth's, and every possible angle of discussion had been exhausted years ago. With Miss Darcy, she got to start anew.

When Mr. Darcy returned from his fourth set of dances of the evening, he took up station beside her as if to dare anyone, including Miss Elizabeth, to send him off to the dance floor again. He had done his duty to both the lady and the assembled residents, and nobody else in Hertfordshire would have the temerity to suggest he do any more.

Mr. Darcy knew full well that he would have to deal with Anne sooner or later, but he just wanted to have a few minutes with his new acquaintances before he would have to deal with the inevitable results of Anne's travel. He imagined his aunt would _not_ be pleased, and would no doubt find a way to blame the whole thing on Darcy, as was customary. Whatever setdown she decided upon would be long, tedious and entirely pointless; but he would endure it because she was his aunt.

For a time, Mr. Darcy just listened in on the conversation between Miss Elizabeth and his sister, and was amazed that the Bennet sisters had managed to perform such a change in less than an hour; when he and his cousin, along with Mrs. Annesley had been working on the same problem for months. Perhaps he should have consulted a woman first, but that thought lead him to go through every woman he knew in his mind; and he eventually came to the obvious conclusion. None of them, not a single one, would have been able to help Georgie. It took a couple of country nobodies with nothing to gain or lose from the friendship but amiability to do what needed to be done. That would require some thought over the next few days and weeks. Looking over at Miss Bennet, he began to think that staying in Hertfordshire for some time might not be quite as much of a punishment as he may have originally thought. Not a punishment at all, really.

Anne had apparently used up all of her reserves of both courage and conversation just getting herself here, and after the dance, she seemed to collapse in upon herself. Reexamining the past, Darcy really began to wonder what life was like for her at Rosings, and was chagrined to find he had never really lifted a finger to help her, when it was well within his power. How difficult must it be to put up with Lady Catherine day after day, year in and year out without respite? Darcy decided there and then that he would bring Anne to town or Pemberley and get her away from her mother for a time to see what kind of young lady she could become… or maybe he would just keep her here in Hertfordshire with his sister. That thought struck him like a stone on a bell, and he was quite astonished at how smooth and natural the idea was. He had already as much as decided his sister would stay here for some time.

Elizabeth noticed Miss de Bourgh flagging, and since it appeared she would need at the very least a block and tackle to get Jane away from Mr. Bingley, she decided she would have to drag the young woman out of her self-imposed exile. Perhaps attaching Kitty to her for an hour would do the trick? Lydia would be too much… well, actually, Lydia was asleep in a chair in the corner having apparently made one too many trips to the refreshments table.

Darcy just looked on in amazement, as Miss Elizabeth with the patience of a skilled artisan, started a small and innocuous conversation with his cousin who had never been known to converse with much of anybody, and gradually pulled the woman out of the shell she was hiding in. Miss Elizabeth was not a miracle worker, and a quarter hour's conversation was not going to completely reverse his cousin's life, but he began to think that with just a little more time, and with the help of her sisters; she just might. Even the silly and ridiculous sisters might be helpful, as you could certainly not grumble about a lack of liveliness with them. Perhaps, he need not deal with Anne at all; aside from diverting the effusions of her mother. Yes, in the end, the Bennet sisters along with Miss Lucas who simply exuded sensibility, might just be what was needed. Who would have thought it a mere few hours ago?

For her part, Elizabeth noticed his scrutiny and surprisingly welcomed it. She quite liked spending time with Mr. Darcy and she could well imagine they could spend a few hours together over the next weeks, and it would certainly not be a punishment. As for his sister and Miss de Bourgh, she could hardly wait to pry their stories out of them by force if necessary.

She saw that Mr. Darcy was paying some real attention to her out of the corner of his eyes; which she could readily determine since she examined him similarly.

Elizabeth was glancing around at all of her new acquaintances, when she was startled by yet another commotion at the entrance, and she said, "Good lord, are we to be visited by everyone in England?"

Many of the inhabitants of the room were still dancing so did not notice the disturbance, but everyone in Elizabeth's little group certainly did; and they all watched the entrance like a group of hawks that had just spied an entire den of mice.

This time she was watching the entrance intently, so she heard rather than saw Mr. Darcy's response of, "Blast!" which had fortunately been said quiet enough that only she could hear. Oh dear, this was not likely to end well.

The pair who had entered was the oddest couple she had ever seen; well perhaps excepting Miss de Bourgh and Mr. Collins; although with their age disparity they certainly were not a _couple_ , but more likely mother and son, or aunt and nephew.

The man was around Mr. Darcy's age, and Elizabeth had to own that yesterday she would probably have considered him quite handsome, but there was something _not right_ about his expression. He carried all the countenance of an amiable and upright man, but something did not look true. His smile was too much like a sneer. His hair which was tied back in a long queue going midway down his hack was just too carefully coiffed. His clothing had the look of something he could not quite afford, but he was not willing to dress down to his own station. No, there was something about this man she did not trust, but she had no idea why.

The lady was a matron older than Elizabeth's mother, and she looked angry enough that she was apparently deep in thought, trying to decide whether to thump her walking stick on the floor, or perhaps start swinging it at random dancers. The decision must have been difficult, as the matron stood stock still for what must have been a full minute or more. In addition to boiling anger, Elizabeth thought she detected a sneer of disgust, as if she had somehow landed in the same pile of… Well, she probably should quit chastising Charlotte for that last prank, considering how sweet her revenge had been. Mr. Collins, indeed!

While Elizabeth was watching the matron, the younger man marched across the room quickly, and right up to Mr. Darcy. A few things were readily apparent to Elizabeth. The first was that Mr. Darcy had a vein visible on his neck right above his cravat that was pulsing in and out, and his fists were in a tight ball, apparently trying to restrain himself from physical violence. Whoever this man was, he had done Mr. Darcy some wrong. Elizabeth made a mental note that at some point she would have to wonder why she assumed the wrong had been committed on Mr. Darcy, considering the shortness of her acquaintance; but right at that moment she would have bet her life on it.

She looked over at her other new friends to see if any of them recognized the newcomer, and all of them did with various levels of disapprobation. Miss Darcy had turned white as a sheet, and Elizabeth had to assume that the story of Miss Darcy and this unknown man would _not_ be to her liking in the least. Miss de Bourgh was staring at the man as she might stare at a common criminal awaiting sentencing or the hangman. She clearly had no good opinion. The Colonel, was unconsciously opening and closing his fist, and reaching down to his side for his nonexistent sword. Elizabeth was not certain whether she was happy or sad that he was unarmed, but in the end with the looks the man was generating it probably would make little difference.

The man stepped up to Darcy, and said, "Ah, Darcy, I happened to notice your cousin trying to find you at your townhouse, which seemed odd so I naturally rode directly to Rosings as quickly as possible to tell your aunt what was about. She of course asked me to attend her back here to fetch the tart back."

He said it with what Elizabeth would have to consider a sneer, looking at Miss de Bourgh with undisguised contempt, so apparently there was a similarity of feeling between the two.

The Newcomer continued, "I say Darcy, are you not the master of protocol? Will you not introduce me to your new acquaintances? Which is years, the moderately pretty one beside you, or the decidedly un-handsome one over in the corner there?"

The man was clearly just egging Mr. Darcy on, probably under the impression that he could get away with it indefinitely. Perhaps they knew each other well and he had some idea of what he could get away with, or perhaps he had been taunting him for years, depending on Mr. Darcy's gentlemanly conduct to keep him safe. What he did _not_ know was the _Elizabeth Bennet was not to be trifled with_.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to deliver the wretched man the set down of his life. She had it all worked out in her mind, and it was going to be the most vicious bit of verbiage ever uttered in Hertfordshire, nay in all of England. He would be crying for his mother before she was through with him.

Just as Elizabeth started speaking though, she was absolutely and thoroughly frustrated in her quest. She could not deliver her perfectly calculated set down, because the man in question was being dragged across the floor, screaming like a baby. He was probably screaming because his head was experiencing some pain; at least Elizabeth assumed that to be the case since he was being dragged across the floor by his hair, by none other than her good friend John Lucas. Apparently he had been able to hear the comment, and he was not so enamored with the cretin's description of either his sister or his oldest friend. She wasn't sure whether he disliked his description of Lizzy or Charlotte more, but since either one would do, she was satisfied.

Mr. Darcy, seeing the man dragged across the floor, said, "Is your friend going to kill him, Miss Elizabeth?"

With an evil little smirk, Elizabeth said, "It is unlikely, since his father would no doubt beat him for it, and he might miss too much school with a trial. I suspect he will probably just thrash him within an inch of his life… Oh and he'll almost certainly cut that ridiculous queue off of his head along with the rest of his hair, and it's hard to say what else he'll do. It probably depends on the relative availability of creosote versus tar, and other practical manly concerns."

Darcy really couldn't stop himself from laughing, and said, "That is good. It will save me some solicitor's expenses. It might have cost some coin to defend your friend. I should have done that years ago. Would it be unseemly to go out and watch?"

Elizabeth laughed heartily at the sentiment, very happy to see that Charlotte's brother and her friend's forthright _manners_ were not being looked down upon by her new friend. She replied, "There are some benefits to being somewhat savage, Mr. Darcy!", and then wondered when exactly she had stopped thinking of him as an acquaintance and started thinking of him as a friend. Was it that he blithely offered to defend her friend without a second thought, or had it been creeping up on her more gradually.

She looked over at her new friend, and said, "I assume you know that… that…"

She could not bring herself to use the word _gentleman_ , or any other word short of _scoundrel_ , but thought she should just keep her language lady-like for the moment.

Darcy replied, "Yes, I grew up with him. His name is Wickham. He was the son of my father's steward. I will tell you his story in all its particulars on the morrow, but suffice it to say _he_ is the reason I wanted to talk to you about my sister."

Elizabeth noticed two or three of John's friends going after him. Perhaps they thought John might need some assistance to deliver a beating… but more likely they just wanted to see the show. It must have been exceedingly difficult for them to decide between which event they would spectate at, but since all they had in here was an old Dragon lady, and outside they had the formidable John Lucas about to thrash some stranger, the opportunities for entertainment outside seemed much more robust.

With that thought, Elizabeth startled a little bit, because said matron had been making her way across the dance floor. She paid not the slightest attention to anybody on the floor, although there really weren't any couples very seriously dancing anymore anyway. Having a man dragged through the dance floor by his hair, screaming like a banshee was not all that conducive to good dancing.

The matron simply walked in an exact straight line from where she was to her stated objective, neither looking right nor left, nor slowing or stopping for anything or anybody. Anyone who had the temerity to stand in her way probably would have received a rap from her walking stick, but nobody felt like challenging her.

She stopped right in front of their group, and looked around as if she had found herself in a den of iniquity, rather than a country assembly room.

She stared at Darcy, and at the smaller than propriety strictly required gap between the gentleman and herself with a sneer, and she opened her mouth to speak.

"Darcy, what are you doing here among this rabble, and what have you done to my daughter. How can you pollute your august personage with such as these? It is unsupportable! You saw how they treated Mr. Wickham, they are practically savages! I shall not stand for it. You know me for my frankness, and I must say that you cannot possibly be here deliberately. You must come away at once! What were you thinking? Come along, Anne!"

Darcy was lost for a moment, reflecting on how not two hours ago he had been looking at Miss Elizabeth's mother with open disdain, but here was a walking and breathing example that could be the archetype for bad manners. In fact, he was quite tempted to go apologize to Mrs. Bennet at once for ever doubting her.

He looked at Anne who had been recovering nicely with the Bennet sisters, but now looked like the pale and sickly creature she had always appeared to be. Elizabeth watched the man with open curiosity, wondering how he would deal with such an affront on manners, dignity, propriety, familial relations and just plain decency.

Darcy gathered himself up a little bit taller, and what he said surprised Elizabeth exceedingly.

"Aunt Catherine, these are my friends and they will not be spoken of as such, by you nor anyone else."

The lady, who had not even bothered to be introduced, appeared to not even hear his words, and said, "Darcy, you have been mucking about in society for a decade now. It is high time you did your duty. You must do your duty to your ancestors, to your family, to your tenants, to your estate. Come away from this place, and do your duty!"

About every third word was punctuated by a sharp rap of her walking stick on the floor, which Elizabeth found to be either exceedingly annoying or somewhat amusing. She would have to think upon it later to see which it was to be, but for the moment annoyance was winning the race.

Darcy said, "Aunt Catherine, while I will pay you the respect due you as a relative, I do not believe this to be the appropriate time or place to have this discussion, and _I will not have you speak of my friends in this manner_."

A second reference to _his friends_ in two sentences did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth, and she smiled to herself at the impressions she, her sisters and friends had made on the gentleman. Who would have thought they might be friends after such a wretched beginning.

The lady still had not deigned to be introduced, but she could be none other than Mr. Collins' _Noble Patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh._

Lady Catherine stuck her nose even higher up in the air, which Elizabeth would have thought to be impossible, and said, "This is as good of a time or place as any. None of these people are important, say what you have to say, but I will carry my point."

Elizabeth saw Darcy sigh in frustration, apparently seeing the utter futility of trying to talk any sense into his aunt, who frankly appeared to be just a touch on the mad side.

Looking at her carefully, Darcy looked around at his new group of friends, and was somewhat surprised to find that he did in fact now think of this entire small circle as his friends. He had exchanged very few words with any of them, many of them not especially gentlemanly, but somehow they had all entered into his heart in these last few hours. Perhaps it was the way they simply accepted him, his sister and his cousin without a second thought. Perhaps it was the way the Bennet sisters and Miss Lucas went out of their way to try to ease both of two young ladys' anxiety with no expectation if gain. Perhaps it was Miss Elizabeth's indomitable spirit. Either way, he could see that these were people he would not give up.

Darcy looked at his aunt intently, and said, "Aunt Catherine, if you wish to continue this discussion, we may do so; but I must first consult with my most trusted advisor."

Elizabeth, found this particular turn of conversation most interesting. She looked around at all of Mr. Darcy's friends, trying to ascertain which would hold the mantle of _most trusted advisor_. She thought she could dismiss his sister, as she was much too young to have enough experience in the world to be particularly useful. Miss de Bourgh appeared as if she had been sheltered too much under her mother's shadow, so she was unlikely to be the candidate. It really had to come down to Mr. Bingley or Colonel Fitzwilliam. She looked quite carefully back and forth between the two men. Mr. Bingley was amiable, easy-going, and probably offered Mr. Darcy some amount of assistance in society due to his easy-going ways. The Colonel on the other hand appeared to be an active duty soldier, probably about the same age as Mr. Darcy, so they no doubt grew up together. With his more extensive knowledge of the world, he may be just the right man.

Looking back and forth between the two candidates, Elizabeth made a bit of a study trying to guess which of the two it would be based on her limited information. It was really a very tough decision, and she was leaning ever so much towards Colonel Fitzwilliam, when she was most surprised to hear Mr. Darcy's selection.

"Miss Elizabeth, if I might have a word."

The application was so surprising, she hardly knew how to react. Could she possibly already be the _most trusted advisor_ , or was she just obstructing the view of whoever he needed to talk to.

"Yes of course"

Elizabeth now looked at the man fully and intently, wondering exactly what question, what particular piece of advice he could possibly want from a woman who he had only met three hours previously.

As she was studying him intently, he was studying her equally so, and the intensity of their gazes increased to the point where Elizabeth doubted very much that either one of them could have given an adequate description of anybody else in the room right at that moment. For just the briefest amount of time his aunt's walking stick, while still pounding the floor periodically, was not entering her conscience whatsoever. She cared not the least about her sisters, or her new friends, or her parents, or the hapless man who was no doubt getting his thrashing outside. She could only think of herself and Mr. Darcy… What could he possibly want her advice on?"

Mr. Darcy, looked intently, opened his mouth, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, might I have the honor of this dance?"


	7. Seventh Dance

Every person in the room save Lady Catherine knew what was _really_ being asked. A third set could only mean one thing, and the room fell eerily silent while awaiting her reply.

Elizabeth found herself astonished with the question, but even more surprising, she knew her answer right away. Somehow, through some preternatural sequence of events, the two had gone from enemies to acquaintances to friends to lovers in less than three hours. That was not really the most surprising part though. What was truly remarkable was how thoroughly comfortable she was with the decision. There was no doubt, no uncertainty, and no nagging little feelings that she was doing anything except what was right and just and natural. Their choices had been made simultaneously, in that shared moment of time in the middle of the crowded assembly hall when nobody else in the world existed.

She felt certain that it was _not_ destiny. With a different reaction to the slight that began the evening, perhaps she might have missed her chance for months or years, or perhaps they would have never come together at all. But come together they had.

Everyone close to the newly acknowledged couple needed no words to ascertain her answer. It showed in her face with a look of heartfelt delight that lit up the entire room with its intensity. The gentleman's corresponding expression was similarly unambiguous, and the reaction of the attendants spread out from their center like wildfire.

When Elizabeth finally regained the power of speech, she smiled even more broadly at the gentleman, and said, "I shall be delighted to dance with you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy held out his arm, Elizabeth put her hand on it, where it naturally belonged, and raising her voice a bit said, "Sir William, if you please!"

Sir William clapped his hands together, shouted, "Capital! Capital!" And signaled the musicians to begin.

There was a mad scramble among the men to quickly find partners for what was likely to be the most memorable dance in Meryton in years. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were entirely unaware of any of this, nor of whether Lady Catherine had relented, or how Anne or Georgiana were taking it, or what the colonel or Mr. Bingley thought, or how John Lucas's beating of Wickham was progressing. They had only eyes or ears for each other as they lined up for their third set.

As the music started, they began in silence, but a _very_ different silence than the first dance. This was the silence of two that knew nothing need to be said when it was already understood.

The companionable silence lasted for as long as Elizabeth's impertinence could stand, and when she decided that love and levity must truly be handmaidens. She said, "Fitzwilliam, perhaps we should have some conversation. A very little will do."

Her intended let out a voracious laugh, which a few hours ago would have caused derision, but now just brought him back slaps from complete strangers, and he did not mind in the least.

At length, Darcy pulled her momentarily from the set so that they could in fact have just a _little_ conversation.

"Elizabeth, I am afraid I must confess a weakness. I cannot think on more than one conversation at a time; and my mind is entirely consumed with the conversation we will have on the morrow. I will only propose marriage one time in my life, and it must be done right. A proposal of marriage must talk of honor and duty and family, but mostly it must talk of love. Love for your spouse. Love for your children. Love for your estate and your dependents. All must be spoken. All must be discussed, but most importantly, all must be felt… for have not the slightest doubt, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You are the love of my life, and you will have my heartfelt gratitude for saving me from myself, and my undying love until my dying breath."

\- The End -


End file.
